


Marks of Love Like Stars

by D20Owlbear



Series: 12 Days of Blasphemy [12]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Again, Angel and Demon True Forms (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a cherub, Aziraphale just has trouble no longer pretending, Crowley Was A Seraph, Crowley is Patient (Good Omens), Crowley knows he won't, Crowley trusts Aziraphale, Forced into it as well so it's just become a rather maladaptive coping habit, I definitely meant for this to be sexy and then feelings happened i guess, M/M, Supportive Crowley (Good Omens), Trauma Recovery, and is afraid he'll hurt Crowley, it's not always so cut and dry nor so straightforward as healing, lancing a wound is not easy even if you have help, no actual trauma really touched on specifically, only rated T for implied nudity, pretending to be a Principality, the last of Aziraphale's pov for my Blasphmey fics, trueforms, wow this is tame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28447398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D20Owlbear/pseuds/D20Owlbear
Summary: 6/12 Days of Blasphemy 2020“I deserve, but to give me, oh! such a mark of love - union with thyself! Can this be?” (Act of Humility prayer)Aziraphale has kept so much of himself hidden, and Crowley has seen it, has Seen him. It was an accident, but Crowley doesn't like how much he's repressing himself, doesn't think it's healthy. So they try to unpack all of that together. It works in some ways.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: 12 Days of Blasphemy [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1570819
Comments: 8
Kudos: 50
Collections: 12 Days of Blasphemy 2020





	Marks of Love Like Stars

**Author's Note:**

> If you know me you can DM about typos.

Crowley sucked a mark into Aziraphale's hip, his teeth scraped over skin blooming darkly and pressed soft kisses up Aziraphale's side. Aziraphale shivered at the gentle touches of Crowley's hands over his thighs where he lay.

"Love you, angel," Crowley murmured, voice sweet as honey and rich as cream, and Aziraphale hummed around the gag in his mouth. It wasn't much, just something to keep him from talking enough to argue with Crowley at the moment, but the rest of him was unbound and unrestrained. They weren't here to play with those sorts of limits today.

Tonight was about Crowley and Aziraphale, and how Crowley loved Aziraphale, every part of him. Including his body, including his wings and his halo, and all the beasts and light and _holyholyholy_ he contained inside him. Crowley lay between his thighs, twisting as he liked and touched every part of Aziraphale, twice. He was on his third round of it, this time giving his praise, his thanks, as if Aziraphale was something to pray about.

"Thank you," Crowley said simply as he kissed along Aziraphale's jaw, and Aziraphale tilted his head to lead Crowley to his neck, sighing in satisfaction when Crowley did just that. The push and pull between them, Aziraphale silently led Crowley to where he wanted his lips and hands and tongue just as often as Crowley disregarded it to shed light on some part of him Aziraphale had been avoiding.

That's what had brought all of that on, actually. Crowley had wanted to merge, to twine their essences together while they were melded in their physical bodies. Aziraphale had agreed, whole-heartedly, and then (almost literally) jumped out of his skin the moment Crowley had slithered underneath his human-like, principality visage he'd constructed for himself into the hidden parts of him that contained eyes and ox and lion and hawk.

He'd felt all the dangerous things in himself that he strove to keep hidden and meek under his fought-for softness and the hard-won pacifism, and the thought of it turned to Crowley was abhorrent to him. Crowley had felt all of that in the span of an instant, wrapped up as he was in those hidden places in Aziraphale, tangled in him and felt in return if only Aziraphale had paid attention.

So, now this. Crowley pet his wings and ran his fingers through the feathers, preening them superficially and patting them in place where he mussed them up to skate his fingertips over the muscle and bone that really only existed somewhat in this plane, thought into reality. And… Aziraphale relaxed. Three was a powerful number of repetitions, and for good reason. Once was to pacify, twice was to accustom, and thrice was to satiate.

"You're so perfect, Aziraphale," Crowley whispered, his hands were down again on Aziraphale's thighs and Crowley's head rest in the midst of Aziraphale's chest, laying kisses lazily for a few moments. Aziraphale only hummed again and wrapped his arms around Crowley's waist, hands solid and soft on the small of his back. _A breather, then,_ Aziraphale thought, _to get himself under control_. It may have started sexual, and the second pass over Aziraphale's physical form may have taken care of whatever urgency his desire had, but now it was simply sensual. Grounding him in his mortal coil, wrapped up by a snake of a demon and held together so well.

"You're beautiful, the kind of beautiful that's timeless, relentless. You fill me with awe and you are the meaning of the word Great, capital-G and everything." Crowley snickered at Azirpahale's huff, his rolled eyes, and the smile he just couldn't help tug at the corners of his mouth. Crowley's cheek had always been something Aziraphale loved about him, his insouciance was nearly always pleasing.

"Will you let me in?" Crowley asked softly, his hand moved up to stroke his fingers over Aziraphale's chest hair, playing delicately with it. Crowley had never really been all that… abundant with body hair and could rarely grow out much of a beard even if they were in style, they always ended up just a bit patchy. Aziraphale breathed in deep and did his best to ignore the worry and fear that welled up inside him, but he nodded nonetheless.

Crowley was right, it wouldn't do to keep that part of him hidden away, it wasn't healthy of him to separate himself out like this and act as if he wasn't what he was. No, he wasn't a slave to his own celestial impulses or instincts, his life on earth had surely been a testament to that, and _yes_ he could reign himself in. Even when there was a demon nearby, especially if it was Crowley, of that Crowley had unshakeable confidence.

"Let me give you, angel," Crowley's voice turned to a lower register and became hypnotic in a way, the cadence of it easy to fall into and just _listen_ , he shifted and closed his eyes and let himself out of his corporation with ease. His coils of massive vastness and void contained behind the light of stars, cracks upon his form of molten gold that served as grooves between his scales overlapped with limbs that used to be wings, and a single pair that were glossy and gentle-looking as storm clouds and as beautiful as Aziraphale had always remembered.

"Come now, love," Crowley hissed, his voice booming and echoing from a thousand directions all around them, coming from within the there-but-not-there delineation of Crowley's essence and the real world, sucking all the light around him into the darkest black of space. Oh he was lovely, and the way he shifted to curl around Aziraphale was infinitely patient and comforting. "Join me? Pleassse?" Crowley pleaded, though there was no whine to it, Aziraphale could always change his mind, he knew.

But Crowley, oh his dear, brave Crowley was doing so much for him, was right about how he was treating the "dark" parts of him, like they were cruel and evil and meant to be banished from him. So, Aziraphale screwed up his courage and nodded, slipping delicately out of his own corporation.

The first step outside of his corporation always felt like being in the center of an underwater storm, his breath stolen from lungs he didn't have anymore and his form writhing underneath the surface yearning to break free from the placid surface which looked innocent and covered dangerous tides. With no breath left in him, Aziraphale expanded, like a nova.

The earth breathed in, Aziraphale with it, and then he returned back to himself. His real self, rather than the flesh-and-blood of his corporation. The urge to screech some cry of victory and stretch out across the dimensions his self lay in until he trembled with the movement of muscle like a cat was nigh on undeniable. But he did, deny himself that is.

It was habit at this point, a tenuous one that would be broken the second his concentration was lost, and he built himself down into the shape of a man with crown and jewels and scepter as his dominion over the earth to guard and protect it. A soft hissing noise and the susurration of scales was his only warning before Crowley wrapped up around him again, coiling his self around Aziraphale's outward form until the ribbon of void was wrapped around Aziraphale, glowing metal eyes, the ever-shifting multitudes of them like rotating rings of atoms and astrolabes all focused on Aziraphale.

He didn't know what it was to be prey, not _really_ , and even now he couldn't know the truth of the feeling as Crowley could not be a threat to his self, he would be overpowered in a moment, but in those seconds before Crowley spoke Aziraphale could almost pretend to himself that he did.

"Azssiraphale," Crowley's booming voice hissed like pipes of steam barely held together, and Aziraphale slumped. He sighed though he didn't need to and looked Crowley in all his many eyes before flexing his wings.

Slowly, two more came out, and then another pair. Each of them pulled from the crags and trenches of his self painstakingly slow, one by one feather by feather. All the while Crowley hissed and held and squeezed him, letting him know he was not alone, whispering sweet placations that he was Seen and Known already.

"Crowley, I–" Aziraphale's voice broke when he remembered that the gag could only ever be in the physical realm but that he was not supposed to speak. He began again after Crowley nudged his chin with the tip of his nose, massive tongue flickering around the side of his face that might have been gross if seraph-snakes had spit instead of flame.

"Crowley, I can't!" Aziraphale wailed, he cried and his tears sizzled into steam when they came into contact with Crowley's star-hot form, leaving Crowley marked with streaks of silver as they cooled like frozen mercury.

"You _can_ ," Crowley replied simply, wrapping massive coils of void and nothing and _warmth and light and love_ around Aziraphale until all but his head and wings were covered. "You do not have to, though, if you have changed your mind."

Aziraphale nodded, breathing coming in short gasps (the trappings of humanity and the habits picked up and practiced for millennium were hard to shake even outside a physical body) and pulled his wings back in, shoving down the mournful cry of an eagle that resonated in him and the urge to grind his heel into dirt and rend the earth with a hoof. He stayed perfectly still, his four wings normally hidden disappeared far quicker, folding into himself as fast as light, and carefully did not think of how disappointed Crowley must be.

"Shhh, shhh," Crowley hissed soothingly, the cavernous chest of the snake and all his ribs rumbled with the odd purr that had died out with titanoboas in Eden was soothing in ways Aziraphale couldn't describe. "It's alright, angel, you did so well. I love you, all of you, and I will love you while I wait. I love you while you are with me and while you are gone. I Know you and have Seen you, I have been within you and we were One. Even while we are Two I love you, no matter what voids you have within you, what crevices and caves…"

More frozen-mercury streaks fell on Crowley's body, slipping down his coils and sometimes falling like comets in the endless space and stars of him while Azirpahale sat and wept looking like a human rather than his self, too afraid of it and of himself and of what he might _do_. Too worried he might hurt the one creature he _loved_ outside of the divine Love for everything.

"It's alright," Crowley murmured, and held him until he stopped crying and they silently returned to their bodies, Aziraphale's arms still wrapped around Crowley's gangly, thin body feeling all too real and present.

In a flash, Crowley snatched the gag from Aziraphale's mouth and peppered his face with kisses until Aziraphale's breathing evened out and his eyes fell shut.

"Just sleep, angel, I'll be here in the morning. 'M gonna nap too, 'kay? Gotta chase around all those love marks you've given me," Crowley grinned irreverently, and it felt so out of place Aziraphale couldn't help the watery chuckle that left him and all the love in his heart ready to burst from him for his terrible, unrepentant demon-husband.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, 'f course. Gotta make sure they keep. Wouldn't want to get rid of those pretty comets and shooting stars I've got now, mhm?"

" _Oh_ ," Aziraphale whispered, overcome with emotion. It clicked then, for some reason, in ways it hadn't before. Crowley _loved_ him, as much as Aziraphale loved Crowley. And _that's_ how he knew Aziraphale would never hurt him, could never. "Could… could we try again?"

"Mhmm, not tonight, angel. We're tired."

"Yes, I suppose you're right… next week then, maybe."

"Yeah, alright. Next week, if you like."

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me in a couple of places!
> 
> Twitter: <https://twitter.com/Great_Ass_aFire>  
> Tumblr: <https://d20owlbear.tumblr.com/>


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